


dove

by eloha



Series: devote embers [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cock Slut, Dacryphilia, Dehumanization, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Gags, Light Bondage, M/M, Multi, Objectification, Rough Sex, Wall Sex, all very slight but also???? heavily implied, but not really???? - Freeform, rly idk what I was goin for here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24988456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloha/pseuds/eloha
Summary: Obsidian eyes glare back at him and it feels as if he’s been placed on a pedestal, an object worthy of praise but looked upon as if he’s nothing but a speck of dust.
Relationships: Fushicho Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace/Sabo, Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace, Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Sabo
Series: devote embers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808875
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	dove

**Author's Note:**

> WHEW this....this baby, I have no idea what I was trying to do with her.... I've been testing some of my kinks out with writing, and it always seems so much better in my head than it does on paper (so to say). 
> 
> I put this as part of my mas series but they won't all be in the same universe, yet they'll have some familiar elements? You don't have to read the first one to understand tbh, but if you have read the first one you'll probably see some familiar things, that's about it.
> 
> ANYWAYS, it took me too long to write this and sorry if there are typos or if I missed any tags, but I hope you enjoy this baby of mine <3

Sometimes Marco wonders why he loves this- why he’s like _this_. Legs spread, with metal talons of the spider gag piercing his skin, it has always made him _eager_ , overflowing with the desire to _please_. 

“Look at him,” Sabo coos, dainty finger placed under his chin to raise his head higher. 

Obsidian eyes glare back at him and it feels as if he’s been placed on a pedestal, an object worthy of praise but looked upon as if he’s nothing but a speck of dust. Marco sits perfectly still under their scrutiny, such men of stature marveling his obedience puts him in the proper head place. It makes the edge of Sabo’s lips curl up into something dangerous. 

“Pretty little plaything, isn’t he?” Ace agrees, chin plastered on Sabo’s shoulder. 

It’s hooked just right to where if Sabo felt the need to turn, their lips would practically be placed right against each other. Butterflies swoop low in Marco’s stomach at the thought. 

“Simply gorgeous.” Sabo easily agrees, and that’s all Marco gets. 

He wants to whine when they turn away, pull at the rope confining him, he does not a thing though. He continues to watch them as they walk from the living room to the kitchen, in perfect view for Marco to see them, but they could care less about him. 

Marco chooses to close his eyes instead, count the heavy puffs of air that seem to be constricting his throat. He can hear Ace laugh, dining room chair scraping across the hardwood, Marco’s knees dig into floor. 

There’s just something about it. 

Something about the way they effortlessly ignore that Marco is even here, seated in the middle of their apartment, every curtain in the vicinity splayed wide open to put him on display. It burns in his gut, has his dick twitching at the mere thought of someone witnessing such an act. 

Tied and gagged, kneeling. He almost wishes one of their neighbors would pass by, what would they think? Maybe they would take a picture of him, call him out on it a few days later. 

Oh, Marco is such a _respectable_ man in the public eye, they would never think he relishes this type of humiliating act. But then they would see how hard he is, how flushed his cheeks are, chest visibly heaving, trying to suck down air to keep himself from _coming_. 

The moan was inevitable, spurred on only by the thought of being caught. It doesn’t help that both men ignore the neediness in his voice. Their conversation is a dull sound to Marco who is trying to focus on the splotches of reds and greens dancing behind his eyelids to calm himself down. 

Sabo made sure to tie him tighter than he usually does, maybe it’s because of the demeaning scene he practically pleaded for. Ace took it upon himself to finger him, two digits scissoring and _spreading_ , just enough to get him loose and crying for more, _another_. Words lost on him when Ace smeared lube up his spine, sticky and mixed with his sweat, deft fingers buckling the gag into place. 

Marco has always loved being left at their mercy. Seeing equal signs of love in their eyes, threatening smiles, hands meant for tantalizing him. He loves it almost as much as he loves bending _them_ against his will, leather piercing skin, a knife to flesh. Marco’s mouth salivates, face burning at just the thought of it. 

He feels so desperate right now, stark naked with nothing to hide from. Drool seeps out the corner of his mouth, shivering when the cool of the living room graces it. Marco wants to open his eyes, see what’s gotten both men so quiet, but he keeps his invisible blindfold in place, position held as if the weight of the world might shift if he doesn’t do so. 

And suddenly there’s a knock at the door. 

Three firm raps. 

Marco seizes up, the only falter in his position, none is ever worthy, but that one little feat has his heart hammering in his chest. Marco squirms, _very_ aware of the position he’s in, how hard he is. Boots scrape across the floor and he wants to reach out and stop them if he could, but he clinches his eyes tighter, a whimper desperately close to breaking free from his throat. 

It’s not that far from here to the door. They would be able to hear him, _see_ him if it was opened just right. He hears that familiar creak, the gasp of sudden air flowing into the room and he whimpers- _slobbering_ , digs nails into his forearms as if that will stave off the humiliation. 

Ace. It’s Ace. He’s talking, a carefree laugh as if Marco isn’t groveling on his knees, tied up and mouth spread. Tears unknowingly form in his eyes, air too hard to breathe in, his cock is leaking, spurred on at the thought of that door being flung open. 

“Open your eyes.” 

Marco jumps- too caught up in his head to hear Sabo coming up next to him. His eyes fly open, automatically darting to where he is. Sabo’s eyes are glittering, looking at him with so much fucking adoration that he doesn’t even have the present mind to look at Ace and see what he’s doing, _who’s_ at the door. 

“Can you do something for me, dove?” Sabo asks sweetly, voice so light, not a care in the world for the state of mind Marco is in. Marco nods, “look at Ace.” 

Marco is nothing if not obedient, he turns his head swiftly, stomach clenching at seeing Ace’s body outlined by the hallway lighting. There are bags in his hand, his shoulder pressed against the doorframe talking animatedly to whoever is out there, and Sabo uses that against him. Places the object (that was obviously hidden) right on the tip of Marco’s tongue, slathering it in his saliva. 

Sabo grips his hair when he goes to turn, dainty fingers curled up in the tendrils so close to his scalp, crown head _burning_ when Sabo pushes the fake cock in deeper, deep enough to make Marco gag harshly- _loudly_. Sabo leans in close enough to lick at his spit, wet appendage tracing metal. 

“Shh, shh,” Sabo soothes, so close to his lips, it does nothing but make him more frantic, “you don’t want them to hear you.” 

The threat shoots through Marco, has his body thrumming and then Ace is closing the door, booted foot going to kick it shut. It rattles just like Marco, shakes against the frame and Marco finally lets out a sob. 

Sabo laughs delightfully, insane look in his eyes when he forces Marco to the ground, situating the dildo on the floor. Oh, and he angles it _just right_ , perfectly, grabs his hair harder to push his head down, fucking his face onto the toy. It's demeaning, and he _loves_ it. 

“Look at you just _taking_ it,” Sabo marvels, spit pooling at the base suctioned to the ground, “can you take more for me dove? Take it for me, yeah?” 

Sabo is cloying, sweet enough to be sour, doesn’t even give Marco the satisfaction of filling his throat with it, he’s just pressing shallowly, giving him a taste of being filled up but not much of anything else. It’s the worst kind of torment, even more degrading because Marco _wants_ Sabo to make him take more, he just asked him so nicely yet he’s not giving it to him. 

Marco is tearing up, belly pooling with heat that’s flush on his face, jaw aching and then Sabo is pulling him up for air. Eyes dark at the water clinging to Marco’s eyelashes. 

“Tongue?” 

And who is he to deny Sabo when he sounds like that? Marco lolls it out, eagerly lapping up the fake cock that’s caked with his spit and Sabo is grinning at him, pushing him back down and Marco goes without much hesitance. 

“Stay like that for me baby.” 

The position is awkward. Marco’s ass high in the air, knees digging into hardwood floor, his arms trapped behind his back in an intricate design. It makes him aware of just how hard he is, positive he’s leaking onto the floor much like he’s drooling on the fake cock. The door might be closed but the windows are still open. Welcoming anybody to peek, see Marco on his knees, bound and trying not to gag on a dildo. 

Marco has no idea how long he stays there, just knows that they’re not making a sound. It’s so quiet he almost fears he’s alone. Are they watching him, ignoring him? Do they see how desperately he’s sucking at silicone? Mouth split, wet enough for him to glide down on it if he so pleases. 

A foot comes into vision, leather on oakwood, disappearing only to _step_ lightly- not hard _enough_ on Marco’s head. He has no choice but to drop on the fake cock, dangerously close to swallowing it, but then the boot is nicer, pulling back. 

_Ace_. 

Marco is a mess when Ace tugs his head back, settling on his knees again, there’s a smirk on his face when he picks the toy up. No doubt laughing at how fucking _filthy_ Marco got it. 

“Be right back.” Ace hums, like he was just testing him, setting the toy on the counter as he goes. 

Marco whimpers at the door being swung open, hitting dry wall and he doesn’t hear that click, no creak of it closing and he flicks his eyes to see it confirmed. 

“How reckless of him,” Sabo chides at Ace’s action, tsking as his footsteps draw closer, “doesn’t he know you want to be _seen_.” 

Fingers _yank_ at the rope, hauling Marco off the ground with complete ease, and then Sabo is pushing him closer to the door and Marco loses it. He tries to stop, push back at Sabo, something unintelligible crying out. Sabo lets him because it’s just so _easy_ to press Marco up against the wall, pressing against Marco so he can _feel_ Sabo’s hardness, and it makes him _want_. 

“Come on _Mar_ ,” Sabo scolds, threads biting into his arms at the rough treatment, “you don’t want them to hear you, huh?” 

Marco lets his head be turned, tries to keep his eyes on Sabo’s even though all he sees is the light from the hallway, those too white walls. He lets his hips be angled the way Sabo wants, lets him flatten the palm of his hand against his cheek while the other one unbuckles his belt. And Marco doesn’t care if someone happens to walk by now. 

“Want it like this?” Sabo is pinned against him, “want me to make it hurt baby?” 

Marco’s eyes roll back when Sabo breeches his rim, cock stretching him, he could come off the burn alone. He lets out a noise of appreciation, no longer caring at the drool, the tears drying up on his cheeks. God, he wishes Ace were here to see him like this. 

“Stay on your toes dove.” 

That’s all the warning he gets before Sabo drives into him, scrambling on the balls of his feet as he was told. Sabo doesn’t give him time to adjust, pistons in and out of him until that sweet pain is turning into pleasure and he feels like he might go numb because of it. Sabo’s hand is settling on his cheek, pushing him closer to the wall, metal _searing_ into him, and Marco _wails_ , rocks his hips backward to meet Sabo’s head on. 

Marco watches as Ace walks back inside, smile plastered on his face while kicking the door shut. There’s heat all around him at that gaze, at Sabo filling him up, Ace quickly drowning out the distance between them. 

“It feels good doesn’t it?” Ace muses, looming over Marco. 

Sabo’s hand is replaced with Ace’s fingers sweeping through the mess on his chin, turning his head up towards him. Marco nods as best as he can, it takes a lot, every nerve ending feeling frenzied. 

“Wish you could see yourself right now.” Adoration dripping from his tongue, Marco falls in love even more. “Raise your head.” 

Sabo drives forward, choosing that moment to slip _deep_ inside of Marco. The gasp he lets out is wet, cheek resting against the wall again at the rhythm Sabo has picked up. It feels like he’s being split apart, impaled on Sabo’s cock, slobbering over the brutal fucking. Sabo does it like he has a point to prove, ramming inside of him with no remorse at all and heat is budding up in his stomach, amplifying when Ace grips his hair harshly and tugs his head back. 

“He’s fucking you silly huh dove?” Ace leers. 

Marco falls pliant, the master holding its puppet. Marco fucking takes it because Sabo is there to hold him up, and Ace is there to catch him. 

“Crying for it is he?” Sabo’s thrust is as greedy as his inquisition, fire in Ace’s grin. 

Marco almost cries when Ace trails a hand behind his head and deftly undoes the gag, other hand seizing his chin when it comes off, smashing his lips to Marco’s in a kiss that he feels all the way in his core. It’s over all too soon, not nearly enough to satiate him, sure that Ace knows that. 

“Fuck your asshole feels like a cunt,” Sabo sighs, and Marco raises on his toes higher. 

“Oh _Sabo_.” Fuck he sounds _wrecked_. Throat too dry, jaw aching, but he’s so fucking eager, mouth hanging open while he watches Ace undo his belt. 

“Yeah? What is it dove?” 

Sabo presses on the base of his spine, pulling him apart, piecing him together. Marco doesn’t know whether to run, scream; they’re so close to the door anybody is bound to hear them if they pass. 

“Can’t speak now?” The taunt is lost on Marco, he’s already too far gone, feeling completely fucked out at being used. 

Marco is crying, chest heaving and nails digging into his arms, practically gagging for come now. 

“God Sabo look at him.” Ace groans, hand pumping his dick, the one inside of him slowing until it’s buried to a hilt. 

Sabo turns his face harshly, very well aware of how disgusting he looks, but Sabo’s dick twitches deep inside of him at the expression, and he’s smiling at him so goddamn wickedly that Marco _needs_ his come. 

“ _Please_.” 

Sabo hums, rolls his hips, pelvis flush against his ass and Marco’s eyes flutter. 

“You want me to cum in you baby?” 

“Oh _please_.” 

Sabo laughs, and it’s fucking mean, _demeaning_ , but Marco is lighting up under it. 

“Arch your back.” Sabo grates, and Marco does it until he feels like he may break in half, calves screaming and joints aching, but he knows he’s about to get what he _needs_ when Sabo starts driving into him again. 

Marco’s eyes fall shut, hoarse moans echoing around the room, the sound of skin on skin, and Sabo is faltering, dick swelling up inside of him. Tears slip out of his eyes when Sabo stills, his walls throbbing, but greedily milking his orgasm. Sabo’s hands grip Marco’s, palms digging into the rope, his name on his lips. 

“Such a good fuck,” Sabo praises breathlessly, a smack on his ass as he pulls out. 

Marco feels unbearably empty, but then another pair of hands are on him, sweeping up the backs of his legs, spreading his cheeks apart. Fingers catch Sabo’s essence from leaking, slipping and plunging them back inside of Marco. Adds another finger just because this is Ace, and he likes him _loose_. 

A fucking mess he is when his fingers rest at his hole, _spitting_ before pulling them away, bottoming out in one smooth motion. Ace groans the same way Marco does, deep in his throat, the edges a little high at just the feeling of it. It’s overwhelming. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Ace moans, belt smacking against Marco’s thighs as he takes his pleasure, “I love fucking your sloppy seconds Sabo.” 

Marco can’t even distinguish the sound he lets out, but he figures this is why he’s like _this_. When Sabo and Ace just push and _push_ , and use him like they don’t give a shit about his release, but he knows they’re doing it for him all the same. Because they don’t judge him, they relish Marco’s wants, welcome his submission with open mouths and an elixir on their tongues. 

“Fill him up baby.” Sabo urges, Ace’s hips growing a little bit more frenzied, nails searing marks into his waist, “come on baby, _fill him up_.” 

Ace does, enticed only by Sabo’s words and Marco’s hole. Ace doesn’t slow down when his orgasm takes over, he has all the power of the gods in his hands, immortality in his veins. Marco swallows it all up hungrily, revels in being filled. 

“Beautiful.” 

Devotion. 

When Ace pulls out, he falls to his knees in reverence, hands go for the ropes, the taste of freedom almost makes him brutish, but the tongue makes up for it. Ace licks a long stripe up his hole, blunt fingernails digging in his thighs, and Sabo massages his arms, curls soft pads into pliant muscle. 

“ _Oh_.” Marco sighs, shifts on his feet, pushes his ass back on Ace’s meticulous tongue. 

“That’s it dove,” Sabo encourages, and that’s all Marco needs. 

His calves are burning, but it’s worth it. Oh, it’s so worth it having Sabo lavish him, his hands all over his arms his chest tracing the nobs of his spine. And Ace completely enraptured in cleaning Marco up, making him feel _good_. His dick twitches, and he swivels his hips back just as Ace gives a particularly good _lick_. Wet and messy to his abused hole and Marco comes just like that. 

Nothing but Sabo’s hands holding him in place, Ace a force behind him. He could have been floating out into the universe, thin black tendrils of oxygen leaking out of him, white stripes thrusting him back down to earth. Marco’s throat feels rubbed raw, not even a good throat fucking doing the trick (which he would have loved, to be fairly honest), but all because of a simple gag and a great fuck. 

“That was beautiful baby,” Ace praises, gives his ass another smack as he’s pulled back onto his chest. 

Marco can barely keep his eyes open, doesn’t even have to when Sabo presses against his front, plush lips trailing on his clavicle, another pair on his shoulder. 

“So pretty.” Sabo agrees. 

Marco feels like he’s on the edge of Elysian. Pinned between two men that own his heart and soul, and theirs back. A rare type of affection he gets after moments like this, when it feels like he’s been strung apart and threaded back together. 

“Don’t get too comfortable darling.” Sabo croons, teeth latching onto the opposite side of his neck. 

That feeling is gone instantly.

**Author's Note:**

> A little ending notes;
> 
> Sabo & Ace calling Marco 'dove'????? Don't ask me why or how but I think it's absolutely beautiful (even tho he's a phoenix) (i like to think they call him something 'soft' like that when he's bottoming)
> 
> Everything was negotiated beforehand. I feel like I should point out-  
> the person who knocked on the door was Luffy, the bag contained absolutely NOTHING important. It was for effect.  
> And also when Ace left and had the door wide open he was standing next to the wall, he didn't actually go anywhere. Also for effect.
> 
> Here's my [tumblr](https://eloha.tumblr.com/) :3


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